


The Stone

by ReinbewPastel



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Pirates of the Caribbean: Jack Sparrow - Rob Kidd
Genre: Gen, Young Jack Sparrow, jack sparrow books, pirates of the caribbean - Freeform, rob kidd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27486637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReinbewPastel/pseuds/ReinbewPastel
Summary: Run. All he could do was run. He didn't know what—or who he was running from, but all he knew was he had to run. He ran through darkness, unknowing of where he was at.A darker version of the end of The Sword of Cortés and the manga adaptation. Read if you dare...Fanfiction by me, Reinbew PastelPirates of the Caribbean Jack Sparrow by Rob Kidd © Disney Press
Kudos: 2





	1. Nothingness

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: The following story contains subject matter that some readers may find disturbing, including psychological horror, violence, and blood. Reader's discretion is advised. Enjoy!!

Run. All he could do was run. He didn’t know what—or who he was running from, but all he knew was he had to run. He ran through darkness, unknowing of where he was at.  
  
The last thing Jack Sparrow remembered was confronting the spirit of Hernán Cortés about the Sword—the Sword that promised great power, wealth, and freedom, for it not to do squat after all he and his crew had gone through to get to this point in their quest, and after he had to face the merfolk to retrieve the stone with promise to learn how to use the Sword.  
  
Now, he was in darkness, running from whatever it was he had to run from. All Jack could feel was fear and dread. His heart beat fast and sweat dripped down his face. His legs tried to give out, but he wouldn’t let it happen.  
  
He was never known to show fear as he always approached everything with wit and optimism. But _this_ was different. He felt as if he had a pursuer, although he never saw or heard them—or it, and if the pursuer ever caught up to him, he didn’t know how he could fight it off. The Sword that was at his side was gone and he didn’t have that rusty, crusty old sword he had previously used on him either. Was this pursuer real? He didn’t know. But he knew he had to find his crew. Something had happened to them and he needed to save them. _Did_ something happen to them? To his delirious mind, yes.  
  
Jack stumbled, falling onto the ground. He pulled himself up and looked up to see a small light from afar, like a light at the end of a tunnel.  
  
“Hm, it appears I may have ended up in a tunnel of some sort,” Jack said to himself.  
  
He further pulled himself up, stumbling back onto his feet. He adjusted his red bandana and he reached his hand out to the side, trying to feel for some kind of wall for support. He found a stone wall and ran his fingers along it as he guided himself through the darkness, towards the light at the end of the tunnel.  
  
He then heard a scraping noise from behind him, although he couldn’t tell how close or far it was. Something _was_ after Jack. The scraping noise continued as he began to run again towards the light.  
  
After what felt like a few minutes, he stopped as his legs tried to give out again. The scraping noise had stopped. He held onto the wall for support, panting as he looked up ahead of him. He expected the light, the way out, would be much closer. But instead, the light was just as far away as he had found it, before he had begun to run toward it.  
  
“Damnit!” Jack swore under his breath through gritted teeth. Wouldn’t he be much closer to the light by now? It didn’t seem _that_ far away.  
  
Jack collected himself and began to run again, now watching intently at the light as he ran towards it. After about a minute or so of running, he had realized as much as he ran, the light still wasn’t getting any closer. It was almost as if he was running in one place. That could almost be the case since he was in complete darkness, other than the light, so he didn’t know if he was actually moving past anything. He stopped to catch his breath again, staring at the light dumbfounded.  
  
He slowly started to move towards the light again, and all he could hear was his heart beating out of his chest,....and the scraping. The scraping noise had returned. He started to move more quickly, still eying the light. Then, a new sound rang out.  
  
“Jack!”  
  
“Huh?” Jack perked up, surprised to finally hear another person’s voice. A _familiar_ voice.  
  
“Jack! We need ye!” The voice echoed through the tunnels.   
  
“Bell?” Jack uttered nervously.  
  
“We need your help!” Another voice called out. This time, it was a male voice.  
  
“Fitzy?”  
  
“Jack! Please!” Yet another voice cried. It was also a male voice, but younger.  
  
“Jean?”  
  
Then, a yowling echoed through the tunnel. It sounded like it came from a...cat.  
  
“Constance?”  
  
Jack tried to listen for one more voice. The voice of his youngest crew member. It never came...  
  
“Tumen?” Jack’s voice turned shaky in concern.  
  
Nothing came from Tumen.  
  
“Just keep running, Jack!” Arabella’s voice called out again. “We’re at the light! We need ye! Come on!”  
  
“Stay right there, mates! I’m coming!” Jack yelled.  
  
He began to run again, keeping an eye on the light. This time, the light finally began to appear closer as he ran. The scraping noise had disappeared again, but then all the voices of his fellow crew members, except for Tumen, echoed throughout the tunnels and swam through his head.  
  
“Jack! Come on!”  
  
“We need your help!”  
  
“Please hurry!”  
  
“We need you!”  
  
“What are you doing?!”  
  
“Jack!”  
  
“Jack!”  
  
“Jack!”  
  
“JACK!”  
  
Jack stopped and covered his ears. “Enough! Stop it! Please just stop all the commotion!” he shouted, sinking against the wall and thrashing his head back and forth. “Stop it! Stop it! STOP IT!”  
  
And all at once, everything went silent. Pain pierced through his ears and all throughout his head. All that he could hear again was his panting and his heart racing.  
  
One of the voices softly called out again. “Come on, Jack!” It was Arabella’s. “You’re almost there! Just run for the light!”  
  
Jack pulled himself back together again. “I’m coming, Bell. Just hold on!”  
  
He ran toward the light again, and like before, the light appeared closer...and closer...and closer. Now, all his vision was fully engulfed in bright light as he ran through it. He shut his eyes tightly at the intensity of the light as he kept running.  
  
  
  
——————  
  
  
  
When he opened his eyes, he expected to be outside, back in Puerto San Judas and finally reuniting with his crew. However, that wasn’t the case. He opened his eyes and all he saw was...darkness.  
  
“What?” Jack muttered in confusion.  
  
His eyes darted around. He could not make out a single thing. It was almost like he was back to where he started. Jack spun around behind him, and saw the bright light he had just ran through. So he _did_ run through the light....He spun back around and peered at the darkness ahead.  
  
“Blast it!” Jack cried in frustration, tearing his bandana off his head, throwing it at the ground, and stomping at it. He threw himself to the ground, folding his arms and crossing his legs. He sat there in the darkness pouting like a little kid.  
  
He sat for what felt like a long time, although he couldn’t tell how long it was. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Days? Weeks? He couldn’t know as there was no concept of time in this darkness, in this...nothingness.  
  
Jack began to laugh to himself, almost getting used to being alone in the darkness. “Well, it’s not like I haven’t been totally alone before,” he said aloud. “Being by myself on the _Grand Barnacle_ was a breeze,” he then added with a hint of sadness, “although, I at least had my ship,...and the sea,...and the waves lapping,...and the birds cawing,...and the Sword...,” his voice lit up again, “Hey, at least I won’t have to listen to that obnoxious aristo nagging at me about how I’m not a captain,...nor do I have to listen to that nasty cat thing yowl and hiss every five minutes.” Then, he realized something else. “But wait,...how am I going to eat?”  
  
He realized that he may not be stuck in the darkness forever after all, however the only way out was by starvation...and that’s _if_ he had not succumbed to thirst before then. There was no way to get food or water in the middle of nothingness if he became hungry or thirsty.  
  
“No. I can’t go on like this,” Jack told himself.  
  
Before he could say anything else, Arabella’s voice called out to him again. “Jack!”  
  
“Oh, what now?! Just bloody tell me where you are already!” Jack complained, having enough with their games.  
  
“You’re past the light now. Just keep on going further and we’ll be right there!” Arabella said.  
  
“I might as well since I have nothing else to do... _literally_ ,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. He got back up onto his feet, picking up his bandana and tying it back onto his head.  
  
He proceeded forward, although the only way he could tell he was going forward was the light shining behind him. He walked, and he walked. All his senses were beginning to get used to his sudden blindness as his hearing increased, hearing every single breath he let in and out, every beat his heart made, and every step his feet took. And his sense of touch had also increased; although there was nothing for him to touch in this...nothingness, he could feel his feet hit the ground through his boots, his cold somewhat damp clothing sticking to his body, his hair hitting against his face, and the sweat dripping down the back of his neck. There was nothing for him to smell in this...nothingness, but he could smell his own putrid odors, as he nor his crew had bathed in weeks, or months perhaps. A few dips in the ocean did _not_ count.  
  
Then, he heard it again. The scraping noise. Jack began to run again as the scraping continued and Arabella’s voice kept calling out to him. As he ran, another dim light appeared far ahead, revealing a figure standing there.  
  
“Bell!” Jack beamed as he ran faster towards the figure and away from the scraping noise.  
  
As he ran, the dim light began to reveal four more figures next to the first one. One really tall one, two shorter ones, and a very small one next to one of the two shorter figures. He knew he finally found his crew, who were waiting to save him from the darkness.  
  
The scraping noise slowly faded away again as he ran to the first figure.  
  
“Oh, Bell! I’ve missed you!” Jack cried as he threw his arms around her.  
  
However, instead of the warmth of her body he expected to feel while embracing her, he felt something cold and hard, like a rock. He pulled himself away and saw a stony figure that resembled Arabella staring back at him. He looked up and down at it in confusion. The figure seemed to be sculpted to look exactly like her...perhaps _too_ much like her. Every single detail was carved in, down to the wrinkles of her bedraggled clothes, the wisps of her tousled, once-auburn hair, and the details in her eyes, fingernails, and everything. He put his hand to her face as he stared into her stone-engraved eyes.  
  
Jack stepped away and looked around at the other figures next to her, and he noticed they were all also sculpted exactly like the rest of the crew, just how Arabella was.  
  
He stared at them in awe. “I-It’s been so long,” he murmured. “My whole crew came to save me...from this...this...darkness.”  
  
Jack slowly walked around as he examined each and every one of them. Fitzwilliam was next to Arabella, with all the details of his brocaded jacket and buckled shoes and all. Jack stopped and smirked, seeing the prat with his mouth finally shut. Without another word, Jack lifted his foot and began to kick the stony aristocrat between his legs. He kicked over and over again. He didn’t care if it hurt and he didn’t care if he felt the wetness of blood soak up the inside of his boot, he continued to kick in anger and frustration. The statue of Fitzwilliam remained still throughout all of it. Jack stopped kicking when he fell out of breath and couldn’t deal with the pain anymore.  
  
He then limped towards Jean, who was standing right next to Fitz. The carvings captured every single curl in the Creole’s hair and every single freckle on his face. He moved on to the next figure beside Jean, which was much smaller and Jack had to kneel down to examine. This one looked exactly like Constance. All the strands of matted fur, all the sharp gnarly teeth that were bared, every nasty claw, and every single scraggly whisker was carved in. She looked as nasty and disgusting as she did in the flesh. Jack shivered as he stood up and moved on.  
  
Jack limped around everyone else toward Tumen, who was on the opposite side of Arabella from Fitzwilliam. He approached the Mayan expecting to find some sort of intricate detail on him. While most of his other features were perfectly carved in, like his hair and the buttons on his waistcoat, his face was.... _gone_. The boy had no face. If that did not unnerve Jack enough, unlike everyone else who was in pristine and untouched condition, Tumen was cracked and decaying in many places, especially his head.  
  
Jack stumbled away from Tumen and stepped back to view all the figures again. He noticed that all their faces, except for Tumen as he had none, had extremely worried looks. Judging by their expressions and all the intricate and accurate details carved in, it was almost like something had _turned_ them all to stone.  
  
Jack began to chuckle to himself, slowly shaking his head. “It’s been way, way, way too...” he trailed off.  
  
Then, each of the figures quickly crumbled apart into five piles of stony dust. Jack kneeled down to the pile that was once Arabella, scooping a bit of it up with his hand.  
  
“Why did you...go?” Tears formed in Jack’s eyes as he finally came to the realization that none of them were actually his crew.  
  
Now, he was alone again.

All the sudden, the scraping noise returned. Jack couldn’t sit around for long. He brushed the dust off his hand and wiped it off on his pants before standing back up. He staggered past the dust piles and ran as fast as he could from the source of the scraping noise, but it hurt too much to put his full weight on his right foot. He was afraid he wasn’t going to outrun his pursuer this time. He limped as he ran and ran and ran, blinking the tears from his eyes and gritting his teeth through the pain.  
  
  
  
——————  
  
  
  
He couldn’t tell how long he ran for, and he couldn’t tell which direction he was going in anymore as the lights faded long far off in the distance behind him. The scraping noise had faded away too, slowing Jack’s run down to a stagger.  
  
Everything was dark and silent again. All he could hear was the dragging of his feet across the floor. He bit his lip, trying hard not to shed a tear. There was no way the great Captain Jack Sparrow would go out limping and crying like a baby! He was too young to think about death as he had a whole life ahead of him, but if he had to go out in any way, it would be in an act of courage, or sacrifice of some sort, fighting for his life or the lives of his crew. But perhaps thinking about it, his crew had no idea where he was. They only knew he had went out to confront Cortés. Perhaps if the word of his death ever reaches them, they’d probably think he went out fighting with the conquistador himself. He couldn’t imagine a more badass death than that. Maybe except fighting the Kraken that is, but still.  
  
Jack kept limping his way forward. As time passed, if it existed, he grew more and more tired and more and more weak. There was no point in stopping and just sitting there, but again, he was slowly losing the will to keep going. The scraping noise from the pursuer that pushed him to run had been quiet for a while, and the voices of his crew encouraging him to fight had been long gone since the stony statues of them turned to dust.  
  
He began to talk to himself again to stimulate his hearing. “Death can’t be _that_ bad...right? Perhaps probably Davy Jones’s Locker, which I’ve technically already been near since Isla Sirena moves back and forth from there to the surface world. But it can’t be that much worse than wherever I’m already at right now. Unless...” he stopped and thought for a moment before continuing, “unless I _already am_ dead, and this must be the Locker...or Hell. If I’m now dead, what am I supposed to do from here? And also,...why is this...thing—whatever that is—chasing me if I’m already dead?...Unless that’s the Devil, ready to torture me for an eternity— _ow_!”  
  
He suddenly smacked into something in front of him. He stumbled back and looked at what he had ran into. Nothing. He tried walking forward and ran into the thing again, but all he could see was nothing. Confused, he put his hand out to touch whatever it was that was in front of him. What he felt was a wall. He couldn’t see it as he was still in nothing but darkness. He tried knocking on the wall. No response.  
  
“Hm, maybe if I walk along this wall, I’ll probably find an exit,” Jack reasoned. He ran his hands along the wall, guiding him as he blindly walked against it.  
  
Then, he heard voices swim through his ear and around his head. The muffled voices were hard to make out, and he couldn’t tell who it was and what they were saying.  
  
“Hello?” Jack whimpered.  
  
He heard the muffled voices again. He pressed his ear against the wall and the voices started to sound more clear, like they were in the other side of the wall. One of the voices sounded like whoever it was, was sobbing.  
  
He then heard another voice. “I’m sorry, Jean. He’s gone.” It was Fitzwilliam. Jack quickly came to the conclusion that the one who was sobbing was Jean. He heard another voice softly weep as well, and it sounded like Arabella. All the blood drained from his head.  
  
_Is this about...me?_ he wondered.  
  
His heart sank lower and lower as two of the voices continued to sob. After a while, the crying ceased.  
  
“I’m going out there,” Arabella said. “I think Jack is in trouble.”  
  
_Wait...but I thought I was dead...  
  
_ “No! It’s too freezing for a lady like you to go out there!” Fitzwilliam protested.  
  
Jack started banging on the wall, trying to get his crewmate’s attention. “Hello! I’m right here!” he called out through the wall.  
  
“I don't want to hear any of it from you!” Arabella snapped unladylike.  
  
It seemed like they didn’t hear him.  
  
“But Jack is good for nothing anyway! All he cares about is that bloody sword!” Fitzwilliam said.  
  
“But he’s _still_ our captain! He’s been gone too long for him to be okay. Even if he’s fine, I-I must let him know...” Arabella’s voice trailed off.  
  
_Know what....?_  
  
Jack banged on the wall again. “Hey! It’s me! Jack! I-I’m right here!” He heard footsteps fade away and the creaking of a door. He banged on the wall even harder as tears once again filled his eyes. “Stop! Don’t go! I’m right here! I’M RIGHT HERE!” The door in the other side of the wall shut and everything was quiet again. “NO! NO! I’m right here! I’m right here...” Jack broke down as he sank against the wall sobbing.  
  
Then,....the scraping noise returned. Jack didn’t care about running from it anymore. He just needed a way out. _Any_ way out. He continued to sob as the scraping noise drew closer and closer, getting louder every second.  
  
“PLEASE JUST COME GET ME ALREADY!” Jack screamed at the pursuer. “I DON’T CARE HOW YOU DO IT, JUST GET ME OUT!”  
  
The sounds of scraping came closer than ever before, and became louder and louder. Jack covered his ears in an attempt to muffle it. He then heard steps approach him. He shut his eyes tightly and curled into a ball, bracing himself for whatever it was to come.  
  
The steps stopped just in front of him. Jack waited a minute for something to happen. Nothing happened. He was going to be angry at himself if the whole thing was just mind games, making him question his sanity. He opened his eyes and looked up to see what had approached him— _who_ the pursuer was.


	2. The Stone

Jean trudged his way through the snow. Arabella had gone out to find Jack, and Fitzwilliam followed after when he got too worried. The two had been gone for a while, and their disappearance concerned Jean. So he left Tumen and his cat-turned-sister Constance behind as he went to look for them himself. His socks soaked as the snow melted in his shoes, making his toes numb from the cold, but he pushed through it and kept going.

He climbed up the snowy hillside cemetery, right where he assumed Jack had went to. He finally made it up and scanned the cemetery. The whole place was eerily quiet, and something gave him an unsettled feeling in his stomach. Jean tried to call for his friends.

"Jack?"

"Arabella?"

"Fitz?"

None of them responded. Jean tried again. "Hello?"

Silence. All he could hear was the chilly winds.

"Come on, _mes amis_! This isn't funny!" The wind howled in response.

Jean strolled by the gravestones, searching for the trio and calling out for each one of them.

He searched and he searched. It was about twenty minutes in when he became too cold.

"Come on! I can't search any longer!" Jean whined. He kicked a gravestone in frustration, no longer caring for the dead as he just wanted to find his friends.

Something on the gravestone he just kicked caught his attention. Something...red. He leaned down and took a closer look. His heart dropped when he realized what it was. Blood...and it looked fresh too.

Jean held his breath as he stood back up. He glanced over ahead to the rest of the cemetery, and found all the other gravestones were covered in blood in some capacity.

"Could this place be...haunted?" Jean asked. Whatever it was took his friends.

He walked through the cemetery again, following the trails of blood left on the gravestones. He nervously peered around to the back of the church, where more blood stained the walls of the side of the building.

Then, something, or _someone_ , fell in front of him in the snow. It took Jean a moment to recognize it was Fitzwilliam. The aristocrat was covered in bruises and his left eye was swelling over. Blood covered his once pristine jacket, more was coming out of his head, nose, and mouth, and his hair that was once never out of place was a mess. He coughed as he tried to pull himself up.

"Fitzwilliam!" Jean cried.

Fitzwilliam looked up at him in surprise. "What are you doing here?!" he screamed angrily.

"What happened to you?! Who did this?! Where's Jack and Arabella?!" Jean asked frantically in worry.

"Run! Get out of here!" Fitzwilliam shouted.

" _Non_! Not without you! And not until we find Jack and Arabella," Jean said, standing his ground.

"I mean it! Get going! Go!"

Jean glanced to the right and found something else in the corner of his eye. He recognized a familiar auburn-colored hair in the snow. He then realized it was Arabella, slightly hidden under a cloak, laying face down in the snow. The white of the snow surrounding her was soaked in blood.

Jean stumbled back and gasped, trying to keep himself from screaming.

The two suddenly heard a ruffling of nearby bushes. Fitzwilliam's eyes grew wide as he tried to pull himself up further. "Hurry! Run!"

A figure appeared from the bushes. It was average height with a slender body. Long dark hair covered it's face, and in its hand was a long shiny sword.

Fitzwilliam managed to stagger back onto his feet and ran towards Jean, grabbing him by the arm and making a run for it.

As they ran halfway through the cemetery, Jean heard footsteps come from behind and a familiar voice of his remaining missing friend. He dragged his heel against the ground, grinding them both to a stop and doubled back. Fitzwilliam cursed as he went after Jean.

The figure stood by the corner of the church and Jean could make out more details in it. He then noticed the all too familiar red bandana it wore on its head.

"Jack!" Jean cried. "It's Jack!"

Fitzwilliam grabbed his arm again, attempting to pull him along. "That's _not_ Jack! Let's go!"

Jean didn't listen. "Jack!"

The figure stepped further towards them, making himself more visible through the near blizzard. It _was_ Jack, or it looked a whole lot like him. His dark hair matted over his bandana, even a little more than usual, and his clothes were covered in dirt and soaked in melted snow and bits of blood. His legs were spread apart, widening his stance. His hand gripped the sword— _the_ Sword—so tight, his hand began to bleed.

Jean was almost happy to see him until he noticed how much of a mess he looked, and the stone-cold expression on his face. He stood and stared as Jack took a few more steps closer. It was what Jean saw next that made his entire body drain of blood, filling every bit of it back up with terror.

Other than the expression on his face, Jean realized something else was wrong. Jack's normally tanned skin was paler than usual and each of his eyes were filled with pure black, almost like voids. His eyes seemed to be nothing more than two empty sockets. In the middle of each eye was a small glowing red dot where his pupils should be.

Jean stood, too afraid to move. Fitzwilliam was right; that _wasn't_ Jack!

——————

Jack looked up at the thing that had been chasing after him all this time. Illuminating under a dim godly light was something tall and humanlike. Handsome, chiseled features and a muscular, tan body. Its headdress was adorned with feathers, and wore a large metal necklace and arm bracers. The once thing that amazed Jack was the large wings that came behind the figure. This was no demon, or evil entity like he had expected. It was a person...or more like a....spirit.

Jack sighed in relief. "Oh brilliant! Here I thought I was going to die—if I'm not dead already. What was that all abo—"

Glaring at him, the spirit swiftly reached its hand out to Jack, grabbing him tightly by the throat. It picked him up and slammed him against the dark wall, still keeping a tight grip around Jack's neck cutting off his air supply. Jack kicked his legs and reached his hands around the spirit's, struggling to breathe.

The spirit leaned in closely to his face. "Quit your whining, brat! Do you know who I am?"

Jack quickly shook his head. "N-no, I-I'm afraid not, mate," he responded, struggling and gasping for air.

"I am Montecuhzoma, Emperor of the Aztecs! And I have no business for strangers like you!" the spirit said, clutching Jack's throat even tighter.

"S-splendid. C-could you just...let me...go?" Jack croaked. His face started to feel cold and lights speckled across his vision.

Just as he was about pass out, the spirit let go and Jack immediately dropped to his knees, sputtering and gasping, taking big gulps of fresh air.

As soon as Jack recovered, he slowly staggered back to his feet and spoke up. "If you have no business for strangers, then why were you after me for who knows how long?"

"Because I _know_ Cortés," Montecuhzoma answered mysteriously.

Chills ran down Jack's spine. "So you were _friends_ with him?"

Montecuhzoma's expression turned to anger and he shook his head. "Friends? No, no, no."

"If you know him, mate, maybe you could tell me how I got here then? Or where I am?" Jack questioned.

"Cortés used the Sword to sway me to believe he was the god Quetzequotl," Montecuhzoma replied. "He made me his subordinate, promising great fortune and wealth to my empire. In the end, he stripped me from my power and my own subjects stoned me with rocks and darts," he then added some heat to his voice. "He locked me away here in this Stone Prison forever as he massacred my people. My belief in Cortés caused my empire to fall to ruins. He has lost my ability to trust anyone ever again."

_The Stone Prison? Inside the eye of Stone-Eyed Sam?_ Jack thought.

"I guess I could say it looks like your friendship didn't last terribly long in the afterlife...," Jack said. "But...there has to be a way out. I can't just stay here forever—"

"There is no way out!" the spirit interrupted. "You'll have to go through what I had to go through. I had to watch as all my subjects, and all my loved ones die. And now, you'll have to watch as all your friends die."

"Die?" All the weight dropped into Jack's chest as he stared at him with wide eyes.

——————

"W-what happened to...Jack?" Jean trembled as he stared into the pair of empty sockets that belonged to someone who was once his captain.

Jean was still frozen, unable to move in fear as Jack slowly started to lift the Sword. As Jack pointed the Sword in Jean's direction, Fitzwilliam grabbed Jean and threw him to the side in the snow. Jean scrambled and crawled through the snow behind a nearby gravestone and peered over, trying to comprehend what was happening.

Fitzwilliam was suddenly thrown back to a nearby tree by a magical force. The captain of the _Barnacle_ slowly approached Fitz, still pointing the Sword to force him against the tree. He walked up close enough to where the tip of the Sword was inches away from Fitzwilliam's stomach. He stared at him with his emotionless yet angry expression. Fitzwilliam tried not to appear frightened, but his fear was fighting to show through.

Jack spoke, but his voice sounded like it came from two different people. One was his normal voice, and the other was a deep...menacing voice, almost sounding like the spirit of Cortés himself. "After all this time...all those weeks...months...looking for this fucking sword. After all that we had gone through...you all could have been at _least_ a little supportive...now that I have it.... Now that I have all this... _power_!"

Jack's red eyes glowed brighter as he squeezed and twisted the Sword, making Fitzwilliam scream in agony with its power. Jean gasped, too traumatized to run to safety.

"The Sword was supposed to be for _us_ !" Fitzwilliam shouted with his voice cracking a little. "It was supposed to be for us to have our freedom...and to keep it out of the hands of vicious pirates. But now,... _you're_ the vicious pirate! The Sword has turned you into a _monster_!"

Jack twisted the Sword, making Fitz scream and wail again. "You shall _not_ speak to your captain this way! The lot you are nothing more than traitors! TRAITORS!"

Something sticking out from Jack's pocket caught Fitzwilliam's eye. It was a shiny onyx stone. He reached out his hand towards it, but the Sword's power forcefully pushed his hand back against the tree. Jack twisted the Sword once more, but Fitzwilliam had lost the energy to scream.

Fitzwilliam craned his head to Jean's direction, looking directly into his eyes as Jean stared back in horror.

Fitzwilliam yelled. "Jean! Get the sto—"

_CRACK!_

——————

"I can't just sit there and let all my crew—my friends—die!" Jack said, following behind the former emperor as they walked through nothingness.

The spirit stopped and turned. "I felt the same way. But what could I do? I've been stuck here for over a century now, with all the other spirits locked away within the Stone Prison."

Montecuhzoma snapped his fingers and all the darkness around them illuminated with bright white balls of light. Some stayed still while others flew across the darkness like shooting stars. Jack watched in awe at the spirits floating around them. The light from the spirits then faded away, putting them back into pitch blackness.

"But we have to find a way out—"

"Just let it go!" Montecuhzoma said, cutting him off and walking away.

"Do you know what? You're nothing more than just a bloody coward! Aren't you supposed to be an emperor?!" Jack retorted, running alongside him again.

"Watch your mouth! You know nothing of me!" the spirit snapped and turned again, making Jack jump. "I entrusted Cortés with my empire. What did I get? My own people stoned me, and they all have died because of him...because of me. Persistence and effort mean nothing. I've tried to find another way out, but it's impossible..." he trailed off and muttered, "if only I had those pebbles."

_Pebbles?_ Jack whipped out two beads, one from each pocket of his waistcoat. "You mean these?"

——————

Jack immediately lifted the Sword to Fitzwilliam's face and cracked his jaw open. The aristocrat's jaw dislocated and hung open. He gasped and gargled, trying not to choke on his own blood.

_Get the sto—?_ Jean tried to piece together what Fitzwilliam attempted to say. _Sto... stove... Get it together, Jean! It has to make sense!_

"I told you I don't need that fucking stone!" Jack shouted at Fitzwilliam. "It's nothing more than a useless piece of shit!"

_Stone!_ Jean looked around on the snow and his eyes wandered up and down the two boys. His mind was too delirious from confusion and trauma to quickly spot it. His eyes stopped at Jack's pocket at his side, where the shiny onyx stone stuck out.

" _Merde_!" Jean muttered under his breath. He knew trying to pickpocket the stone off of Jack would be very risky.

Jack lowered the Sword to Fitzwilliam's chest and Fitz began to scream and gargle.

Jean needed to do this fast. He didn't know what to do with the stone once he got it, but he had to focus on retrieving it first. Jean crept out of his hiding spot and tiptoed through the snow towards Jack. Jack was too distracted torturing the other boy to notice Jean sneaking up behind him.

When he got close enough, Jean slowly reached his hand out to Jack's side, careful not to disturb him. He stretched his fingers out as far as he could to Jack's pocket and his fingertips touched the top of the stone. Jean leaned in further to fully grab the stone and carefully slid it out of the pocket.

Just as he pulled back, Jack snapped and turned, quickly redirecting the Sword at the younger boy. Jean had no time to look up in fear or to run away. Jack pointed the Sword and the power immediately threw Jean hard against another tree, the stone flying out of his hand into the snow.

——————

Montecuhzoma's eyes widened as he stared in surprise at the red and white beads. "No...it is impossible! Where did you get those?!"

"Tia Dalma gave them to me," Jack said nonchalantly.

"Tia Dalma, huh?" Montecuhzoma smirked. He then placed a hand on Jack's head.

"What are you doing?" Jack asked, trying to mask his nervousness.

"Right now, you are about to head through a barrier," Montecuhzoma said. "When you pass through, clear your head of any dark thoughts, or the barrier will hold tight."

"And what if I can't?"

"Then you will be swallowed up."

Jack gulped. "But there's no other way?"

"You can do it. Let's go," the spirit said with a smile.

Jack looked down at the beads in his hands. He rolled a bead from one hand to another, making the two hit each other with a clink. He then closed his eyes tightly, ready to pass through.

——————

Jack took a few steps towards Jean, pointing the Sword and turning it. However, the boy was too unconscious to cry in pain. Fitzwilliam sat slumped against the tree he was previously thrown at, trying not to choke on his own blood.

Then, something changed in Jack. While his expression remained stoic, the red dots in his black empty sockets flickered and tears began to run down his face, all the while still keeping a very firm grip on the Sword.

Jack's vision flashed back and forth between the barrier and the sight of a familiar face slouching against the tree in front of him. No matter what he saw through the barrier and the surface world, he had to keep any bad thoughts away as the barrier would keep him in if he didn't. He closed his eyes to avoid staring at what lay in front of him in either worlds.

Jack opened his eyes again, now fully back in the surface world. He dropped the Sword and stumbled back, trying to keep his balance as his body felt very weak. He wiped the tears from his face and looked up at Cortés, who was standing just a few feet in front of him.

"What did you do?!" Cortés demanded. "How did you escape?!"

"I managed to find a way to pass through the barrier," Jack answered. "What have you done to my crew?! Where are they?!" It was clear that the delirious Jack had not noticed at his surroundings.

Knowing what he did—or what he made Jack do—Cortés laughed.

"You won't be laughing in a second, mate," Jack said threateningly.

"You're a fool, Jack Sparrow," Cortés replied. "You cannot defeat the dead."

"Oh, that's right, _I_ can't," Jack said. He looked down and noticed the stone eye laying in a small dent in the snow. He knelt down and grabbed it, and held it up to Cortés, "But _this_ can."

Cortés looked concerned.

Jack could sense his nervousness. "Why do you want it so badly?" Jack asked. "Well, other than to lock me away in it in the middle of nowhere."

Cortés was silent.

"Want it?" Jack teased, extending the stone out to Cortés. As Cortés reached out to grab the stone, Jack jerked it back. "Sorry, mate, I told you it's mine."

"How could you use the stone to defeat me anyway? You do not know to unleash its power," Cortés said. "Just as you do not know how to use the power of the Sword."

"See, mate, that's where you're wrong," Jack said in a smart tone. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his waistcoat and found the two beads exactly where they were before he had taken them out to pass through the barrier, and held them out to Cortés.

Cortés stared at Jack condescendingly. "You think you can unleash any power of the stone with those? What are they, anyway? Bits of rock? Pieces of candy? Bah!" Cortés cackled arrogantly.

"No, they were a gift from Tia Dalma."

Cortés's eyes grew wide at the name.

"And she taught me how to use them..." Jack began to twirl his long hair, until he had twisted several strands into one long lock. "...and a certain acquaintance of yours taught me how to use them, too. How do you think I escaped the Stone Prison, huh? Both unlike you, who didn't really teach me a thing about how to use that dumb sword. You know, you really have to get your act together, Cortsy." Jack took the red bead and threaded it through the lock he'd made.

"You're going down, mate, and your cursed sword is going with you," Jack said to Cortés. He slipped the white bead onto the lock and knotted his hair at the end to hold the beads in place. Then, he held the stone eye up to Cortés's decaying face.

Yet not even Jack was prepared for what happened next.

The instant the beads touched—red over white—the stone eye exploded. For the second time, Jack vision was immediately engulfed in bright light. Everything became too much and he suddenly blacked out.


	3. Punishment

Jack woke up uncomfortable and in pain. His head and his back hurt. Whatever he laid on felt soft and warm, and the air beating on him felt hot. The smell was of the ocean, as if he was back at sea.

He slowly opened his eyes and his vision blurred. He feared he was trapped back in the Stone Prison again. As he adjusted his eyes and his vision became clearer, he soon realized he was not in the Stone Prison, but in another prison all together... Not really a prison, but a prisoner of an island.

Jack pulled himself up with his arms and looked around. He was all alone on the beach of a long strip of land in the middle of the sea. The middle of the island was all trees, brush, and shrubbery, and along the shore was bright turquoise Caribbean waters. The warm sand Jack laid on was white and tan. This was not Puerto San Judas at all!

"Okay...am I dead _now_?" Jack wondered to himself.

_What happened? How did I get here? What happened to my crew? Where are they?_ He thought. All he could remember was confronting Cortés, becoming trapped in the Stone Prison for what felt like an agonizingly long time, and returning to the surface world and facing Cortés again before blacking out.

Just then, he heard footsteps in the sand. Jack sat up onto his rear and whipped around, surprised and yet afraid of the other presence on this island. His expression completely changed and was overjoyed when he looked up to someone familiar looming over him a few feet away. He would finally learn what was going on and how he ended up here.

"Arabella!"

"Hello, Jack," Arabella said solemnly. Jack was taken aback by the seriousness and professionalism in the tone of her voice.

Jack stood up and to a few steps towards Arabella. "I'm glad you're here, lass! Could you tell me what happened? How I got here? A way out of here?"

"What do ye remember in the past few days?" Arabella asked.

Jack frowned. "The surface world? Or the Stone Prison?"

"Just tell me everything ye remember," Arabella replied.

Jack looked away and thought for a moment. "Hm, I remember leaving the inn and going up to the cemetery. I demanded Cortés to teach me how to use that blasted Sword, then I ended up somewhere dark, which happened to be in the stone. After that,...well....things get real fuzzy right there. Would you be a dear and tell me what in the seven seas has happened?"

Arabella glanced down, kicking at the sand beneath her feet and bit her lip. She almost hesitated, too nervous to tell him. "Jack, I don't know what you're goin' on about with this 'Stone Prison', but when you were gone, I got worried sick and I went out there to look for ye. Fitzwilliam went out there, too...and Jean. Whatever Cortés has done—ye went absolutely off your bloody rocker and started going on a rampage, hurting everyone around you—attempting to take the lives of us all. Ye finally came back to your senses and used those beads in your hair to unleash the power of the stone eye and Cortés was defeated."

"No, no, no! No way! Absolutely not!" Jack exclaimed. "I would _never_ put you, or anyone else in the crew's lives at stake! I think you've forgotten my place here!"

"You _did_. It was _you_ who did it, Jack, and it was _you_ with the Sword!"

With the mention of the Sword, Jack suddenly put two and two together. What happened while he was locked away in the Stone Prison? Montecuhzoma told him he had to watch his people die, and that Jack had to watch his crew die. "Okay, so if that _was_ 'me', that can't really be me! I must have been possessed, probably by Cortés himself! You have to understand that wasn't me!"

"Even if that wasn't all of ye," Arabella said, "we _warned_ you about the dangers of using something as cursed as the Sword of Cortés. We _warned_ you about all the deaths this item of power has caused. We _warned_ you about the majority of tragedies over fortune and wealth. Ye did not listen and caused all this destruction."

Jack stared off, trying to let her words sink in. A tinge of guilt overwhelmed his mind.

Arabella continued. "We are keeping the Sword safely aboard the _Grand Barnacle_ until we find another small boat that is easier for us to sail and when we find someone we know who will keep it safe and not use it for ill purposes."

Jack took a deep breath to clear his thoughts. "Oh, well I can use the Sword to sail the _Grand Barnacle_ easy peasy! I've done it all by myself! And I think I know just someone who would like to have the Sword."

Instead of being enthusiastic, Arabella sighed and shook her head. "The thing is...the reason why you're here...why I'm here with ye,...is to say goodbye."

Jack's face dropped into confusion. "What?"

"There needs to be punishment for your actions. Makin' ye governor of this island is the least we can do."

Jack tried to process what she was saying. "Making me governor—" his eyes shot open at the sudden realization. "Wait! You're _marooning_ me!"

"We had the option of just sailing ye to Port Royal to throw you in jail and have ye hanged, but since you were our captain, and a good friend to us, we decided to just leave ye here with this," Arabella pulled out a flintlock from her skirts and threw it onto the sand next to Jack's feet.

Jack couldn't see how this was a better option than being hanged at the gallows. If anything, this was worse since the island the man was made governor of was specifically there for him to rot, and the pistol being there for him to contemplate suicide.

"How could you? You can't do this to me!" Jack cried. "After all that I had done for you and the crew! It was _I_ who had invited you to run away from your tavern and your da'! _I_ was the one who assembled this crew! _I_ was the one who saved all your backs multiple times. Besides, finding the Sword of Cortés was _your_ idea, since you know all about the pirate legends and stuff!"

Arabella looked away with sadness in her eyes and bit her lip again. "I'm so sorry, Jack. We had no other choice. We had to do this for our safety. You're the one who carelessly played with cursed items and let them become a danger to us all. You have nobody to blame but yourself."

Jack stared at who he once considered his first mate with a cold blank stare. "You can't just leave me like this. I'm the captain, and every ship needs one!"

"We're still deciding on that. For now since I was second in command, we made myself captain until otherwise," Arabella said.

_Arabella—Captain?_ Jack stared at her dumbfounded. He felt hurt by her betrayal. If she really was his friend, she would have had his back no matter what. Arabella turned and started walking towards the nearby rowboat in the water.

"W-wait! Is Fitzy all right?" Jack asked nervously, following after her. As much as he didn't like Fitzwilliam, he still felt a hint of concern for him.

"Fitzwilliam should be fine," Arabella answered, not stopping or looking back over at Jack.

"And Jean?"

Arabella got to the rowboat and started coiling some lines and throwing them into the boat. "Jean is recovering; he'll be alright. I should be going."

"And Constance?"

"She's fine. I must go, Jack." She pushed the boat out to waves, jumping in and grabbing the oars.

"And...Tumen?"

Arabella flinched at the mention of Tumen and Jack could sense it. He remembered Tumen had been very ill before he left his crew at the inn.

"What's wrong with Tumen?"

"Goodbye..." Arabella choked back tears as she vigorously started rowing, looking over her shoulder away from Jack.

"Bell! What happened to Tumen?!"

Arabella rowed further and further away from the beach with tears flowing down her face. The waves and the distance downed out Jack's cries as he ran into the ocean to swim after her.

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH TUMEN?!"

"WHAT HAPPENED?!"

"PLEASE! TELL ME WHAT'S WRONG!"

"TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED TO MY CREW MEMBER!"

"IT'S THE LEAST YOU CAN DO AFTER ABANDONING ME LIKE THIS!"

"YOU SAID I NEEDED TO KNOW!"

Jack's cries slowly turned into shouting, pleading, and sobbing, followed by choking, gasping, and sputtering. He treaded water as he watched Arabella row off to the _Grand Barnacle_ in the distance. He had to escape somehow. He needed to convince his crew to be back on his side, get the Sword back, bring Tumen back, and make everything right and normal again.

Eventually, he would soon already have a plan since just a while ago, he traded a fabulous hat for the ability of sea turtles to support humans on open water...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's quite dark, but hope you enjoyed!


End file.
